


Heaven's Tears

by HermaeusMora21



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bi-Curiosity, Byronic Heroes & Heroines, Character Death, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Genocide, Ghosts, Hell, Horcruxes, Horror, Limbo, Magical Realism, Murder, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Realistic, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sexual Content, Shapeshifting, Slavery, Spirits, Suffering, Terrorism, Torture, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-15 01:52:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3433409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermaeusMora21/pseuds/HermaeusMora21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dark Lord Voldemort may have fallen, and the Wizarding World at last is at peace. However, the Dark Lord’s defeat left a lot of loose ends. Dark wizards and other beings roam after his fall from power, and the power vacuum left over mixed with the Ministry of Magic regaining its power creates many opportunities for those who would take advantage. New threats grow in the dark, and a monster is among them whose power threatens outweigh even Voldemort. If is to be finally purged from the world a new generation must join the old in order to survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> All works, pictures, etc on that I will be writing about or using are property of their original creator. I am just writing stories for some fun and no profit whatsoever. The stories themselves might be from my head, but all original characters, etc belong to their original creators. Just a fan here. Seriously, no harm EVER intended.

**Prologue**

         Fear is what led to the formation of religion. Mortals looking up at the sky in awe of thunder and lightning felt a cold fear run down their backs when they saw the might of nature. In order to make themselves feel safe they imagined gods who personified their greatest fears, and they would make sacrifices to them for safety. In the vast majority of religions there is a story of the creation of the universe by some deity/deities. Yet, magic must have been a part of that creation. However, many religions say magic is the craft of Lucifer, Hecate, or some other dark entity, and by association magic is deemed “evil.” I have never heard of a single witch or wizard in the modern age even believing such things are real; much less utilizing such entities as the source of their power. However, some also believed that the veil of death was impenetrable; that once one dies the only way they can return to this world is as mere specters of their former selves. People believed the raising of the dead and travel to the other side is impossible for mortals. Does having the knowledge and power to do so make me more intelligent or powerful than every other magical being before me?

         In most cultures and religions it is believed that if a mortal desires to pass into the realm of the dead they must pay a severe toll. I knew that in order to reach my goal of piercing the veil between worlds I would likely have to pay a sacrifice beyond comprehension. I was wrong. The ‘sacrifice,’ on my part, was a blessing. It granted me powers others could not even imagine in their wildest dreams. Some might ask if it is true that thousands perished in order to make my dream a reality, but my reply to them would have to be another question. Was it not worth the cost? No being outside of myth has ever managed to complete this trial. Those who gave their lives to allow me to transcend all others and complete this impossible feat should rejoice for their part in history.

         Not even Riddle had been able to comprehend the mysteries of death as I have. He grasped and hobbled in the dark in order to escape death, but in the end all he accomplished was the diminishment of his power and subsequent annihilation of both his body and soul. I saw his soul in that waiting room. His wretched form laid there; pitiful, shrunken, and tormented as I strolled by. Horcruxes have a terrible price to pay in return for the banal benefits they provide. Simply siphoning the excess fragments of one’s soul, as opposed to the mutilating it, into an object is a more effective means of ensuring that one cannot be destroyed. The user’s power remains intact, along with their soul, but this method would most likely only produce one such object. Riddle’s weakness was his paranoid fear of death. He created too many horcruxes, and stretched his soul too thin. He deserves to lay there in his miserable despair.

         The most amusing part of his anguish is that it is not without a chance at reparation. His soul is fractured, but there are methods of reforming it. One such theory is that pure, honest regret would pull together the soul, but the cost of this might very well be death. However, this theory was conceived by those who had only theoretical knowledge of death. They neglected to think of the possibility of another being pursuing an idiotic user of a horcrux into the afterlife and repairing them there where they cannot die again. Young Mister Potter was the first person in history to genuinely return from death as I see it. The problem is that when he did so Riddle still had a portion of his mutilated soul in the physical world, in both his own body and Nagini. Harry Potter did not see the same abomination in that plane in between realms that I did years later.

         Reforming Riddle’s soul back together would take years to accomplish, but it would not be impossible, merely improbable by humanity’s understanding. His return to the mortal realm would be as simple as Mister Potter’s choice to board the train, and I do not think for a moment Riddle would miss that opportunity. Making him a vessel to inhabit would also be trivial. After all, Pettigrew managed to do so through Riddle’s own instruction, and he was an imbecile. Yet, I cannot think of any purpose to summon Riddle back from the dead. He believed himself to be the greatest wizard who ever lived. However, if I raise him from perdition then he will always be known as lesser than me due to my ability to master death and even salvage his wretched remains from the netherworld. A psychopathic and uncontrollable underling is not particularly helpful; especially when said psychopath cannot even comprehend being someone’s lesser. I am also unsure of whether I could force him to do my bidding if it came down to it. He would never willingly serve another, and his subjugation would require either the use of the Imperious curse or a silver tongue forged under the watch of Dolos and Apate. While Riddle was a fool in some terms, even I won’t doubt his mastery of Legilimency, Occlumency, and daft stubbornness.

         So, he is no more to me than a particularity dangerous double-edged sword. Perhaps one day I will need him. He would be a perfect distraction should Potter and his ilk discover me. While Voldemort tears apart the magical world once more, I could cement my power; although, I would prefer that as a last resort. I want to rule over creation. I do not want it marred and wounded unless it is my will that it be so. Dominion over the world and the ability to control the life and death; these are the core principal requirements of being a deity. Would my success make me a god? But a god of what? Death, lust, anguish, hatred, murder, and perversion?

         Magic had to be created when the universe was. Perhaps there is a God or gods. Maybe they did create this wretched world. They are gone now though; I am sure of it. I have seen what is on the other side. I have pierced through the veil that holds these realms together and wept at what I saw. Maybe my presence there polluted it? Did I kill that which created all? If so then it is good that the universe is rid of it. Such weakness that could only create has no place in my world. I can do far more than merely create a world of misery; I can repair, rule over, and even improve upon it.

         In order to fix it I shall become the new God of this world. I will bring death in order to create life. My lusts will drive me towards power and the fulfillment of my desires. I will bring anguish so that humanity might understand the pointlessness of disobedience. My hatred will fuel the fires of my purification of this spoiled world. Those who stand in my way will have to crawl over the corpses of their murdered comrades. And I will twist and pervert this already perverted world until it pleases me. When the walls between life and death are brought down I will rule over a kingdom never-ending.

         Will those who scorned me in youth come to fear me? Will those who once loved me feel regret? Will those who betrayed me feel a cold pit in their stomach as they realize what they created? Will those I loved realize what I am trying to do? Will they ever love me again?

         I will become a God, but I will still be one of flesh and want. That idea of a tender hand grazing my cheek or the warmth of another by my side still fills me with sentimental desire. Another glaring flaw of Riddle’s was his inability to grasp the concept of love or bonds between humans and other creatures. He couldn’t even understand how far one being would go for another they loved or how much they would struggle against him to protect their friends and lovers. I do understand that. I have also felt the sting of realizing that some people would not do so in return. People are complex. In order to successfully wage war on creation one needs more than power. One must fully understand whom they are fighting. To underestimate even a child could lead to a path of destruction. Riddle presents the ultimate example for this.

         I am not discrediting power. Grindelwald was defeated because his opponent was simply better than he was in some way. Perhaps I should begin researching how to resurrect that wretched bigot in case I am in need of him. What is that phrase muggles use? Mutually ensured destruction I believe it was. Should it look like I am losing to this world the like of Voldemort would make a fine weapon of mass destruction. I could consider trying to find a method to resurrect Grindelwald as well, but with him on the other side of the veil it would be more difficult. That is, until I bring the whole veil down. Besides, from what I have gathered the once powerful dark wizard may have grown soft in his old age. I do not need a dulled weapon in my arsenal. Voldemort will do for now as my weapon of last resort.

         An age of fire and blood lies before my path. One day the whole world will rejoice in my name. Before they see me as a god they will mistakenly see me for a devil. It is no matter. When everything they hold dear is ripped from their bleeding hands and I alone hold the power to return what they have lost they will finally understand. Then, they will love me.


	2. A Train, Some New Friends, and a Long Walk to a Hat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All works, pictures, etc on that I will be writing about or using are property of their original creator. I am just writing stories for some fun and no profit whatsoever. The stories themselves might be from my head, but all original characters, etc belong to their original creators. Just a fan here. Seriously, no harm EVER intended.

Chapter One: A Train, Some New Friends, and a Long Walk to a Hat

         As he boarded the Hogwarts Express a thousand thoughts still swirled through Albus’ mind. Both his father and brother’s words were still at the back of his mind. However, he boarded the train with his family and followed James and Rose into a compartment. He had mixed emotions about the trip ahead of him. On one hand he was going to Hogwarts! He had grown up listening to his family’s stories of the school, and he just knew he had some excitement ahead of him, minus the psychotic dark witches and wizards his father dealt with of course. On the other hand though he knew his older brother would try his hardest to give him a hard time throughout his time at Hogwarts. After all that is what older brothers do. His brother finally settled on a cabin and went in.

“Why aren’t you going to sit with your friends?” Albus asked James confused.

         “Well, I figure making sure you and Rosie here get settled in nicely. That and I’m sure if I leave you alone for any amount of time this cabin will burst into flame shorty,” James replied while securing Rose’s luggage.

         “I’m not that short!” Albus replied a little aggravated with his brother, “and you know that fire in my room wasn’t my fault, I was eight-years-old! I didn’t know what I was doing.”

         “Either way you still look like we starve you, and for your information you burned half of the stuff in my room to ashes as well genius. If you’d like to travel without me I’ll just leave you and Rosie here and hang with my friends,” James retorted. After he finished settling Rose in he darted out of the room muttering about a food cart and chocolate frogs.

         “You know, he might be obnoxious at times, but sometimes he is still trying to help. Even if he is lightly insulting you while doing it,” Rose piped in as she settled into the seat holding her copy of their potions text book.

“Already reading up on potions Rose?” Albus asked with a laugh in his voice.

         “Of course,” Rose said with amusement in her voice. “And please, we both know you’ve already read all of your textbooks. If my eyes are working right I think I see a third-year charms book poking out of your bag there,” she finished while giggling.

“Well…” Albus dragged out while blushing and pushing the book further into his bag, “you know I’m not EXACTLY like my dad,” he replied amused.

         “True, if you were I would be fixing your glasses right now Albus,” she said while busting up laughing, and it didn’t take long for Albus to join in. In the middle of their laughing they heard a knock on their cabin door. When they looked over they saw Scorpius Malfoy and a rather skinny boy at his side.

         “Dear me, if I had known this would have been the fun cabin I would come here immediately. Until now I’ve just had Aric with me and he’s a bit on the quite side I’ve learned,” Scorpius said in a rather soft spoken voice. It surprised Albus and Rose. After everything they had heard about his family they had expected something more abrasive, however, his features and voice were both rather mild and unassuming. And neither of them detected any hint of malice in his words. While Rose looked Scorpius over again, Albus just noticed his friend, Aric, He was a little shorter than Scorpius, about the same height as Albus, but he was skinnier, much skinnier with a very pale complexion. His jet black hair also draped across his face giving him a very dark look, and he had almost white-blue eyes, perhaps silver Albus thought.

“Are you there Potter? Weasley?” Scorpius said a little confused.

         “Oh I’m sorry,” Albus quickly said, “I wasn’t expecting anyone to come in. You two are welcome to have a seat if you’d like.” Rose shot Albus a confused look for this. She wasn’t quite sure why he would invite Malfoy in, but he usually knows what he’s doing. That and her family did want them to be a little nice, or at least until he wasn’t.

         “Thank you,” Scorpius said as he took a seat next to Rose and stowed his bags away, “there aren’t many places left open, and it’s awfully annoying walking up and down this train.”

            As they settled in Scorpius immediately flagged down a food trolley and bought nearly everything on it. Funny thing is, for a bunch of first years there isn’t much better a way to make friends than get them more food to eat than is possible. Albus then noticed that the fellow, Aric, next to him looked like he was more interested in resting than he was eating.

“So, who is your friend here?” Albus asked with a little curiosity.

         “Oh Aric? I have no idea really. I met him at Diagon Alley wandering around with some old bat from Hogwarts. No offense to her but I could tell she was as lost as him. So, I figured I’d lend a hand and get him settled in for Hogwarts. Aric here still has kept on the quite side though,” Scorpius explained to Albus while pulling a bag of sweets from his bag.

“Thank you,” Aric replied almost inaudibly while sitting with his hands folded and his closed and head resting on the wall.

         “See? Quiet one him,” Scorpius remarked as he popped a chocolate in his mouth, “so anyone have any house preferences? Other than Potter here of course, I swear half the train must have heard you muttering ‘Not Slytherin’ under your breath the whole trip through the train.” Albus blushed a little at this, and Rose just shook her head.

“Well personally, I would think Ravenclaw would be the best fit for me and Albus,” she replied.

         “Oh really,” Scorpius said while sliding into his seat more and sprawling out, “I’m taking it you inherited your mother’s brains? And you Potter… well that’s good. For me and Aric here I would say it’s a toss-up between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. My family thing screams Slytherin, and I’m not too brainy, but Ravenclaw may happen. As for my disturbingly quite friend here I would say the same except he seems a little sharper than most.” Albus and Rose took another look at Aric after this and they noticed while he was now staring out the window they could tell he was listening to every word they said.

         “It’s just that I prefer listening rather than talking Scorpius,” Aric said. His voice shocked the three of them as they had been on the train for almost an hour now and he had only spoken that one time. His voice was still really soft even when he talked at a normal volume. With Scorpius Albus figured it was because of etiquette training or something similar, but with Aric it was different. He was measured. Every word he said was thought out before he spoke it. It was like conversation was something different to him than it was most people. The closest thing Albus could compare it to would be if Aric thought of it as Wizard’s Chess.

“Same here Aric,” Albus replied, “so then, where are you from? I’d like to hear a little about you.”

“Saint Mary’s Orphanage out in the countryside,” Aric replied with a little distaste seeping out in his tone.

“I’m sorry, it doesn’t sound like you care much for it there,” Albus replied.

“It’s not a bad place. They feed you, clothe you, keep you safe,” he replied, “ but growing up around muggles while little, can be trying.”

“How so?” Rose asked.

“For starters, how many times did you three accidentally use magic when you were little?” Aric replied in that same calculating voice.

“Oh I see your point now. That would be annoying,” she responded knowingly.

         “Really? What if it happened every other day? It would’ve only taken one time of lashing back out with magic to make you different. That much strangeness happening on a daily basis in an orphanage ran by nuns makes you a little more than just different,” Aric dryly stated. The three of them got quite after this. Albus was thinking to himself, like the other two, about how much that would affect someone, but Albus was also thinking of another story he heard very similar to Aric’s. If he recalled what his father had told him that story hadn’t ended well. Suddenly a screeching sound echoed through the cabin.

         “Bugger, we’re already here?” Scorpius shouted jumping up. More than a couple bags of food fell to the ground as he did though. He started rushing to pull his robes on and his clothes off.

“What are you doing?!?” Rose shrieked at him, “I’m still here you know.”

“Sorry, no time. Just look away. I’ll be done in a second. People move! Do _you_ want to set a record on how quickly a student can get in trouble here?” he said while rushing around

         “He’s right, sorry,” Albus said as did the same as Scorpius. Aric just stood up, unzipped his bag and his clothes started undressing themselves and then redressing him on their own.

“Did you get your stuff charmed or something?” Albus asked confused.

“No,” Aric replied shortly. He was dressed within a few seconds. “I’ll take a step out so Rose can change when you two are done.”

“At least someone here has manners,” Rose grumbled with her eyes still closed.

         By the time the four of them got off the train they were the last ones off. James was long gone and most of the first years were in a crowd off to the side. As they walked up Albus and Rose saw Hagrid’s familiar face.

“First years this way,” he called.

         “I can’t believe we’re this late,” Scorpius gripped. They were behind all of the first years and they would’ve lost sight of Hagrid if he wasn’t so tall. They got on the boats to cross the lake, but they were all too wound up to enjoy it, expect for Aric who seemed interested in the boats movements. In no time they were at Hogwarts and at the top of the stair well. It was Professor Longbottom that greeted them. Albus and Rose were familiar with him and smiled, but the majority of students were still bewildered and taking in their surroundings.

         “Hello first years! In a moment you will go through these halls and be sorted into your houses. The four houses are Griffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Take pride in your house, and try not to break any rules as that will cost your house points. The house at the end of the year with the most points will win the house cup. Now follow me,” Professor Longbottom said quite jovially.

“Still worried Potter?” Scorpius asked Albus.

“Not really,” Albus replied.

         “Good, I mean there are much worse things than being in Slytherin. I mean halfway up to the sorting you could trip and accidentally shoot a spell from your wand at the headmaster’s face,” Scorpius mused out loud, and by the end of it Albus had lost the color in his face.

         They got up to the sorting area, and after Professor Longbottom reiterated his earlier speech he called up students beginning with someone with the last name Abbott. Albus’ nerves slowly returned as he had to wait.

“Scorpius Malfoy,” Professor Longbottom called out.

         Scorpius strode up to the platform and sat down in the sorting chair. When the Sorting Hat touched his head it didn’t shriek out Slytherin like everyone thought it would. Instead it took a good deal of time before saying “very well then Slytherin it is boy. Just remember a house doesn’t make the person. The person makes the house.” Scorpius stood up and walked over to the Slytherin table while they all clapped loudly for him. The rest of the room simply gave the required, respectful clap or two.

“Aric Mason,” Professor Longbottom called out next.

         Aric walked up to the hat at a measured pace and sat down on the chair. However, the hat was still around a half foot away when the Sorting Hat boomed “Slytherin!” at the top of its lungs.

         “Well now, that was definite,” Aric remarked with a tint of amusement in his voice before walking over to his new table. Scorpius made sure he got a good round of applause.  However, now Albus and Rose were a little worried as their new friends were placed in a house they didn’t want to be in all that much, but it really wouldn’t matter so long as they weren’t placed in Slytherin like James, who was currently mouthing the word ‘Slytherin’ to Albus.

“How mature,” Rose remarked as she rolled her eyes.

“Albus Potter,” Professor Longbottom called out with a little fondness in his voice.

As he walked up to the Sorting Hat Albus’ stress came back in full, as he was confused as to where he wanted to go.

 


End file.
